No Air
by theonewhodoesn'tquitefitin
Summary: Basically a post-Reichenbach angst-fest set to the song by Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown. I suck at summaries! :L
1. Verse 1

**AN: Hey again guys! This is more than a little bit sad, so apologies if it brings back any Reichenbach feels :3**

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><p><span>Verse 1 – John<span>

_If I should die before I wake_

_It's 'cause you took my breath away_

_Losing you is like living in a world with no air_

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><p>John sat in his armchair, all but numb to his surroundings. The focus of his attention, as always, was the black armchair gathering dust directly opposite his own.<p>

He did not cry – three years on, his eyes had long since run dry. Instead, a penetrating, hollow ache pulsed deep inside him, the only thing he felt that broke through the numb façade.

As he sat letting the minutes tick steadily into hours, he does nothing to stop the onslaught of memories. His expression remains a dull, lifeless mask as he is hit by wave upon wave of painful reminders of all he has lost.

That doesn't mean to say it doesn't still hurt. In fact, inside, John is still as he was on the day of the Fall; crying, pleading, cursing, wishing his best friend back from beyond. He merely suppresses this, keeps it bubbling just below the surface for the sake of his sanity and his friends.

A tentative knock at the door cuts the oppressive silence like a bullet, and John surfaces sharply from wallowing in the past:

"Are you OK, John? I've not heard you moving about, but I thought you must be getting hungry…" Mrs Hudson witters, and he accepts her motherly fussing with the ghost of a smile. She disappears back downstairs after pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and telling him to "take care, won't you?"

He is suddenly aware of a gnawing sensation in his stomach, and takes on of Mrs Hudson's sandwiches in a bid to silence it.


	2. Verse 2

**AN: Welcome back! If you're still here, congrats for surviving the feels :L**

**Enjoy!  
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><p><span>Verse 2 – Sherlock<span>

_I'm here alone, didn't want to leave,_

_My heart won't move, it's incomplete,_

_Wish there was a way that I could make you understand_

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><p>Sherlock is painfully aware of the hurt John is suffering; he cannot be seen in the area, but Mycroft took pity on him and granted him access to 221b's surveillance footage. Every second not spent tirelessly working to topple Moriarty's criminal empire finds Sherlock sat in front of his laptop, torturing himself watching his best friend waste away.<p>

For John, every day has been the same since the Fall; get up, sit in his chair and pretend to cope, reassure Mrs Hudson that he is, in fact, OK, then retreat to bed and stare at the ceiling, occaisionally succumbing to exhaustion and being plagued by night terrors. But for Sherlock, there is only one constant in his days – his time spent with John.

For a supposed sociopath, it is surprising how often tears roll unchecked down his thin cheeks, silent promises to return and try to fix this broken man never far from his mind. He even prays to every deity he is sure doesn't exist in every language he knows – the same few words each time: _Please, let him survive_.

The Woman couldn't do it, but this quiet, unassuming doctor has made Sherlock beg too many times to count, and he doesn't even know it. A bittersweet smile pulls at the corner of Sherlock's mouth as he closes the laptop before stretching his hunched figure and going back to work.

When Sherlock's weary body eventually forces him to rest, the last conscious though in that vast mind is always the same silent message to his best friend: _Keep waiting, John. I'll be home soon._

This single thought can be the only thing that keeps him going, and is always running in tandem with his plans of how to sever every last thread of Moriarty's web.


	3. Verse 3

**AN: This is only a really short one, but I hope you like it! :)**

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><p><span>Verse 3 – John<span>

_So how do you expect me_

_To live alone, just me?_

'_Cause my world revolves around you_

_It's so hard for me to breathe_

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><p>John now understands Sherlock's view about the body being merely transport for the mind: as long as he caters to his body's basic needs, he is free to deceive himself that his best friend could burst through the door like a whirlwind at any moment. John thinks bitterly of how in just eighteen months, that marvellous, ridiculous man managed to weave himself seamlessly into every aspect of his existence. And now, all John has left is a flat full of memories and an aching heart.<p>

Though there was no romantic connection between the pair, they were closer than brothers. John is swept under the tidal wave of a new memory – sitting in Buckingham Palace giggling with a sheet-clad Sherlock, being chastised by Queen Mycroft. Given the hostile bond with his blood brother and being that Sherlock was little more than acquaintances with nearly everybody else, it still astounds John how close they became.

He smiles fondly even as he is surprised by the fact that his vision has blurred and his cheeks are wet. Once the floodgates have opened, there's no stopping the flow. Grabbing the familiar blue scarf from the back of his chair, John curls up in a ball and buries his face in the soft material to try and stifle his sobs.


	4. Chorus

**AN: I've not updated this in so long! Apologies for anyone who's been waiting, sixth form's been insanely busy -_- Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chorus – Sherlock &amp; John<span>

_Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air_

_Can't live, can't breathe with no air_

_That's how I feel whenever you ain't there_

_There's no air, no air_

Sherlock feels that his body is letting him down. He knows deep down that he's been neglecting it – forcing himself to continue until he's running on adrenaline like he used to, before John. He hates himself for doing it, but he tries to reason with himself that the sooner he completes this mission, the sooner he can hopefully return to John. However, he knows it would only worry John to see him looking so gaunt, so he makes himself eat every couple of days and sleep before he crashes in order to be vaguely healthy for when he returns. A wry smile contorts his features as he contemplates the idea of a healthy dead man, but he soon shakes the morbid thought and refocuses his attention on the next step of his plan.

_Got me out here in the water so deep_

_Tell me how you're gonna be without me_

_If you ain't here I just can't breathe_

_There's no air, no air_

John occasionally ventures out of the flat, going through the motions of everyday life in order to keep up the façade that he's coping. He decides to take a walk one evening and is limping along the street when something in his peripheral vision brings him to a halt. He sees a tall figure with blonde curls watching him with concern from across the street, and the admittedly vague resemblance has John's heart beating in his throat. The figure notes John's eyes on him and calls out "You OK mate? Nasty limp you've got there!" The voice makes it clear to John that he's seeing what he wants to see, and after yelling back "I'm fine, cheers for asking though!", he carries on limping towards Tesco. Little does he know, still standing in the same spot, Sherlock is cursing himself for taking such a stupid risk, especially as seeing John limping so badly made he feel even worse.


End file.
